


Some Kind of Blue

by DaturaMoon



Category: Peaky Blinders, thomas shelby - Fandom
Genre: Black OFC - Freeform, F/M, Thomas Shelby / Black ofc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaturaMoon/pseuds/DaturaMoon
Summary: Thomas Selby finds a kindrid spirit in the cabaret singer, Desiree Baptiste. Through this kinship two broken hearts learn to love again.
Relationships: Thomas Shelby/ Original character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. The Singer

**Author's Note:**

> Pair: Thomas Shelby x Desiree Baptiste

This wasn’t his first time here. Tommy frequented the club late at night; the nights his dreams kept him awake and the opium wasn’t enough to chase them away. At least once a week, he had one of those nights.   
The tall haunting Shelby brother always came alone. No brothers, no friends, no woman. He never left with one either. He was a ghost stalking the joint by his lonesome.  
He tipped nicely, drank his whiskey, enjoyed the music, minded his business. Then, he would slip back out into the night. Tommy didn’t have to pay for anything, not usually. But he did here.  
Tommy wasn’t much of a talker; although some people knew who he was, they never made a big deal out of it. He had a sort of invisibility here, he liked that. It was one of the many reasons he kept coming back. Tommy lost count how many times he’d frequented the lounge.   
But this night was different.   
He arrived early enough to catch the nights entertainment. He usually only caught the jam band in the late hours.   
Sitting close to the stage, he held a cigarette with one hand; his other wrapped lazily around his drink.   
As the red curtains parted the most alluring woman he’d ever seen appeared. Her skin golden, a sweet caramel brown. Her figure is curvy and soft. The colors of the embroidered dress perfectly match the tones in her skin.  
Her heavily lined eyes fall on him, he feels that strange feeling in his gut, the one he hadn’t felt since he was young.   
When she opens her mouth to sing, the song comes from her like an angelic bird; falling off her lips like a melodic spell cast upon the crowd. A spell Tommy feels in the deepest, darkest, most hidden parts of himself.  
Her voice is soft, angelic, and moving.   
Tommy feels uncomfortable. The sudden emotions rising up in him were the very things he tried his best to bury.   
Now, before him this alluring songstress, pulling on his heart strings and knocking at the door of his innermost secrets.


	2. You and Me

On nights like this Desirees skin burned hot.   
Like Icarus, too close to the Sun   
It was a feeling she used to feel all the time, back when she started. Back when all this was so fresh and bright.   
It was a feeling she longed for and tried to replicate time and time again; a feeling she thought she lost until Thomas started to appear.   
The moment her eyes would land on Thomas Shelby, everything would burn hotter.   
The way his otherworldly blue eyes pierced her soul, the way the cigarette smoke casts spirits across his face, the way he sat perfectly still, unmoving.   
But, for those who could really see, he was anything but still. The storm brewing inside of him was turbulent, impossible to ignore.   
On nights like this, as she performed and caught sight of him, Desiree felt like the Sun and Thomas was the moon.  
…  
After the performace, Desiree lingers in her dressing room for minutes after changing. Melancholy washing over her as it often did. That was the thing about being sensitive to things, about having powerful moods and emotions. Some days were beautiful highs, some lows, and others somewhere inbetween.   
Desiree never had anyone who understood this, anyone she could talk about it with. So she put into her songs, in the lyrics she sang; it was her outlet. But some nights performing wasn’t enough, some nights she needed something more; this was one of those nights.   
Though they never spoke, Desiree suspected Thomas understood how she felt. She could see it in his eyes. Every week, he’d sit in the same seat and watch. Then promptly leave after her last performance.   
Sometimes, she’d imagine herself running out, catching him before he left. Others, she’d picture him on the otherside of her door, waiting to take her out. Desiree counted, tonight was Tommy’s 7th visit.   
...  
Opening the door, Desiree looks back at the room once more, to make sure she had all her things. Flicking off the light, she steps out and pulls the door shut, then locks it with the key.   
The smell of cigarette smoke lingers in the air, mingling with that feeling she wasn’t alone. Desiree keeps on hand in her purse, and turns to the staircase. A tall figure reclines against the wall. When he looks up, a set of blue eyes meet hers, eye’s she’s only seen from afar.   
Her lips part slightly as she turns to fully face him. Thomas stands tall, steps out the cigarette and makes his way over to her.   
Thomas stops a respectable distance away, his eyes settle on her face. “You have a beautiful voice.” His accent flavors his gentle words.   
Desiree smiles shyly and drops her head, breaking eye contact. “Thank you.”   
“My name is Thomas.”   
She looks up again, her large brown eyes relax him instantly. “I know, Thomas Shelby.”   
He nods and slides his hands in his pockets, his eyes searching hers.   
Desiree places a hand against her chest, “Desiree, Desiree Baptiste.”   
…  
1 hour later   
The music soothes her soul as Desiree hums along, swaying gently in her seat. Thomas is drawn in, unable to look at anything else. The sleepy underground lounge moves languidly around them both, their corner booth feels like a world of their own.   
Though they only officially met an hour ago, Desiree felt familiar. Even as he sat here, watching her sing, nothing about this felt strange or unfamiliar.   
When she opens her eyes, Thomas greets her with the tiniest of smiles. One so small, it was barely there.   
“Was that a smile?” She asks.   
Thomas picks up his drink and brings it to his lips, he shakes his head no.   
Desiree drops her gaze to the martini glass and traces the rim with her fingertip.   
“Please, keep singing.” Thomas asks.   
“Did you like it? I couldn’t help myself, hearing the instrumental played I just - I suppose as a singer I can’t help myself.”   
“I wasn’t complaining.”   
She smiles wider and pushes her glass a few inches away. Her eyes still down cast as she speaks,   
“It’s a sad song actually. I’ve been singing it all day...not everyone wants to hear sad songs.”   
“I enjoy sad songs.” Thomas adds.   
“It’s because you and I, we are the same. One has to be sad to enjoy such things.”   
“What makes you think I’m sad?” He asks.   
Her eyes soften on his as he leans into the table, “I can see it, feel it.”   
A long moment passes as they stare into eachother eyes.   
Desiree presses her lips together and breaks the silence. “Do you ever fear you’ll listen to something so sad it will break your heart?”   
Thomas leans back, his gaze unwavering. Despite his stillness the emotion in his eyes overwhelms her. “Already broken.”   
It pained her to hear him say these words, but she wasn’t much different. “As is mine.”   
Thomas slowly pushes himself back from the table and stands. Straightening out his suit jacket, he rounds the table, standing before her and offering his hand.   
“Would you like to dance?” He asks.   
Desiree stands, placing her and in his. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”  
As they move to the dance floor, her hand warms in his and she feels comfortable, safe. How could such a feeling arise in oneself with a stranger? Perhaps Thomas wasn’t a stranger, maybe they were merely meeting again.


End file.
